


If You Ever Come Back

by Saints_Dead_Girl



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Affairs, Angst, Based on a The Script Song, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, If You Ever Come Back, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 21:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13466979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saints_Dead_Girl/pseuds/Saints_Dead_Girl
Summary: James adopts a ritual to deal with a broken heart.





	If You Ever Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> I titled this after a song by The Script that came on the radio while I was at work. I hear it every now and then but today, for some unknown reason, (countless hours of reading fanfics) it just screamed James/Richard to me. So as soon as I could, I whipped this little bit up. I suggest listening to the song, but it's not necessary. Any way, hope you like it.

James knew it was an idiotic thing to still be doing. Yet found himself unable to stop, even after 9 months. Ever true to his word, he knows he would continue with this senseless routine for another ten years if it meant there was a chance, even if the slimmest that Richard would come back.

He goes through the motions and he checks each little thing. First, the door was only lock by one lock, to which the key for was hidden under the mat outside. He checked for the key, then stepped in to lock the door.

Then, he would wash the kettle before filling it with water, and then sitting it on the stove. Carful to make sure not to cut it on. In the morning, he would no doubt pour it out for some fresh water.

Lastly, he worked his way through the house, cutting out each and every light. Except the hall light. That, he would leave on, just in case.

He would then make his way upstairs to his bed that now seemed much too large for one person. Force himself to undress and crawl in to bed alone for another night.

His little process was much easier now than it had been early on. Then, he couldn’t get past locking the door without breaking down all over again. It just felt wrong locking the door when Richard wasn’t there with him, but he somehow made it through. After a few weeks, the crying might have stopped but the feeling stayed. Even now it was there, but the whole thing was habitual now that he made it part of his normal nightly routine. Sometimes, he would even forget why it was he had started it in the first place. That is, until he gets up to his room.

The bed room was always the most painful reminder.

Their nights fumbling under the sheets, testing waters neither dared to before. Desperate hands exploring over sweat slick bodies to touch anything and everything the other was willing to give. Fingers dipping in to mouths before carefully stretching open virgin cores for the first time.  Richard’s sweet, breathy moans as he grew closer to his climax, followed by the sinful slurs he would spout as it hit.

James shakes those thoughts away. That wasn’t what they were anymore. Now, they were just colleagues. He counts his blessings that they had been lucky enough to salvage that part of their relationship at least. Even if he did want more.

The brake up happened almost exactly like how entire thing started. After a successful day filming, the two went to the pub for a few beers, before heading back to his place. They then practically mauled at each other in need till they would stumble up to the bed room and have sex.

Yet that night, just like when it started, James could tell something was off. Richard had been distant all day and barely held a conversation at the pub. At home, Richard dumped his normal frantic, grabby, get naked before getting in the house attitude, for one more fit for James himself.

He took his time with every little thing they did. Drawing out their kisses while his hands slowly traced over every inch of James’ body. Taking care to kiss all of James that he could as he removed each article of clothing. Holding him tightly, even after they had both come down from their climaxes. But the nail in the coffin for James was when Richard asked if he could join him for a shower.

Never in their year of doing this had Richard had to ask. James would just allow him in if he wanted or Richard would wait till after he had finished. It was like an unspoken rule, so the fact the Richard asked, sent red flags flying. After the shower, everything came to an abrupt halt.

In short, Mindy had grown suspicious and thought he was using “got drunk and stayed at James’” as a cover for an affair. While she wasn’t entirely wrong, Richard convinced her that that wasn’t the case and she believed him. Even still, she had then asked him to cut back on the drinking for her and the girls. James’ couldn’t blame him for choosing them over him.

Before Richard left that night, James had told him that he would always have a home there. That he would put the spare key under the mat and leave a light on if he ever decided to come back. He wouldn’t ask any questions and they could continue like he had never left. Richard had smiled and thanked him, but James had the feeling that despite his offer, Richard wouldn’t be back.

After that, their life continued just like normal. They acted just as they always had at work and even continue to meet up for a drink every now and then. Yet when James would get home, especially during the first few weeks after the brake up, he would come apart. Often ending with him drinking himself to sleep on the couch.

It was always the smallest things that would set him off too. Setting out an extra plate, ordering for two, buying Richard favorite beer to keep his stock up. Even occasionally finding a forgotten piece of Richard’s wardrobe would leave him in a sobbing self-loathing heap. Leaving him wondering if he was the only one suffering. Wishing that Richard would have given him a reason to hate him or better yet, that he could just forget it all.

Yet with rising of the sun, he would build up his walls, put on his brave face, and head to work like nothing had happened.

Every now and then James would still brake down in the privacy of his home, but it had been a while. So as he climbs in to bed tonight, he thinks of the happier times with Richard to ease himself in to a peaceful sleep.

Richard making a mess in his kitchen trying to cook a birthday breakfast. James finding perfect cup of tea being thrusted in to his hands before he realizes he had wanted one. How majestic he looked covered in oil and hands busy taking apart a motorbike. How impossibly white his teeth were in comparison when he would look up and catch James watching him.

He’s a breath or two away from dozing off when he thinks he hears the faint sound of Fusker mewing for attention somewhere down stairs.

He’s certain he’s dreaming when he hears a familiar voice gently shush him before the steps creek under the weight of footfalls.

He lets the dream lead him where it may as he watches a short shadowed figure slips in to his room and undress, before slipping in to bed with him and tucking its self under his chin without speaking.

Through the warmth of a familiar body, the tickle of breath on his chest, and the smell of product filled hair, James has that final push he needs to sleep. With a smile, he tugs the body closer, gives the styled hair a kiss, and whispers, “Welcome home.”


End file.
